


Angels of the Gates

by tazia101



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angel/Demon AU, Gen, Good Omens Inspired, One Shot, Religious Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazia101/pseuds/tazia101
Summary: The humans have Fallen. Four angels were stationed at the Garden of Eden in each of the cardinal directions, and the Angel of the West Gate (also known as the Angel of Vigilance) is given the blame for the humans' Fall.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	Angels of the Gates

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on @knight-in-the-stars, my inactive tumblr blog, in 2018.

_An Argument Heard Near Eden_

“I just don’t understand how you could have been so reckless.”

“I was telling her not to eat it, she wouldn’t listen to me. I said not to.” The words were sharp with exhaustion and anger.

“Why would she suddenly need reassurance, after all these years? And how could you have known to abandon your post and run inside?”

“I don’t know, I just… knew. And I didn’t exactly expect the Spanish Inquisition for trying to _help_.”

A pause.

“What’s the Spanish Inquisition?” asked a new voice curiously.

“Not important,” snapped the first. “What matters is that the moment the Angel of the West Gate left his post, the humans Fell. Am I supposed to believe that’s a coincidence?”

“It is not supposed to be your place to judge,” said the last person to speak, voice cool. “Our Father punishes those who need punishing. It does not fall to us.”

“No need,” the Angel of the West Gate said, the anger in his voice washed away by defeat. “I’ll follow the humans. They need someone looking out for them.”

“Father will take care of them,” the curious voice protested.

“Their _Father_ threw them out of Paradise for the curiosity that he gave to them,” the Angel of the West Gate snapped. The other three lapsed into shocked silence. “I know it’s all for a reason, but they’re out there alone, and she’s pregnant, and neither of them know how to be scared, or that they should be. They grew up in harmony, they won’t understand discord. I’m going with them, because someone has to. And I’m not wanted here anyways.”

“Virgan-“ The first, strident voice now seemed more uncertain.

“Virgil,” he corrected, and silence fell again in the wake of the renaming.

“Good luck… Virgil,” whispered the curious voice, and then there was the sound of wings. 

The newly named ex-angel was left alone.

The listener finally uncurled from its branch and lowered itself down beside Virgil’s ear.

“Well done. You really did a _great_ job with that conversation.”

Virgil jumped a foot in the air, spinning to put his hand where the hilt of his sword had been.

The snake, satisfied with the response, curled back up into the branches, blinking yellow eyes at the being beneath him.

“But where is your flaming sword, Angel of the West Gate? I simply can’t remember when you had it last.”

“I gave it to Adam,” Virgil replied. “They wouldn’t last the night without protection. Not with creatures like you around.” He narrowed his eyes at the snake.

“You didn’t tell your friends about me? I’m impressed. I expected you to tell them everything.”

“You know I couldn’t,” Virgil said, glaring. “You made it so that I couldn’t speak.”

“Did I?” The snake tilted its head and flicked out its tongue to taste the air. _Rain is coming_ , it told him. “I don’t recall.”

“Why did you do it? They were happy, they were-“ Virgil cut off, eyes widening. For a moment, the snake could see no reason behind the expression, but then Virgil collapsed, his wings spreading to cover himself, and the base of his wings, where they met pale unblemished skin, was revealed.

Blackness was spreading up the violet wings, bleeding out from his back. It tainted each of the feathers in an inexorable wave, until it reached the flight feathers at the very tip of each massive wing.

All the while, the being who used to be an angel cried out, a tinny sound in the rough ear canals of the snake. _I should get a better body,_ it reflected. _No more of this dragging my belly along the ground._

The screaming stopped: the change was complete. The snake waited curiously, but the ex-angel stayed on the ground, tremors shaking through his newly darkened feathers.

Eventually, bored with waiting, the serpent wound down the tree and approached the warm body, nosing at a hand that was fisted tightly in the grass.

Virgil lifted his head and opened his eyes, revealing them to be as dark as his wings. _Demon._

“Digging the black eyes,” the snake commented, as he wound around the new demon’s arm. “They look good on you.” They looked like horrific holes in his face, stark against the still-perfect angelically pale skin.

Virgil pushed himself to standing, still shaking slightly from the pain of his transformation. He looked around, and the snake followed his gaze. A faint light glimmered in the distant forest, a campfire… or a flaming sword.

Thunder growled overhead as storm clouds gathered. It would be the first time the humans would know how harsh nature could be, without their garden’s protection. The first night that would be anything less than perfection.

“What are you?” Virgil asked, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he allowed the snake to wind around his neck, loosely draping over his collarbones and savoring the heat that hadn’t yet left his skin.

“Anything but Deceit,” it answered, and flicked its tongue across Virgil’s neck, tasting the conflicted emotions in his sweat, and then settling its head in the hollow of the new demon’s collarbones. “And what are you, you who used to be the Angel of the West Gate, Heavenly representative of Vigilance?”

Virgil blinked the blackness from his eyes, replacing it with a more human hazel. With a snap of his fingers, he clothed himself in dark fabric, his wings curving black behind him.

His lips set in a determined line, he glanced down at the snake, then back at the distant fire. “Anxiety,” he said, and with a flutter of his wings he soared towards the newly abandoned humans, with Deceit still hanging around his neck.


End file.
